


Kiss It Better

by RavenGrey



Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012), Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Mention of blood, Spabe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Speed accidentally cuts his hand and Abe kisses it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss It Better

**Author's Note:**

> First Spabe porn. Aww yiss.

         A loud crash and muffled shout are heard easily from the storage room at the back of the store, drawing Abe’s attention as he stocks the uppermost shelves. He dismounts the ladder quickly and neatly when the sounds interrupt his work, eyebrows knitting in concern, weariness tightening around the corners of his eyes as he pads silently to the storeroom door. “Speed?” Abe calls out, voice clear and sharp as he places a hand on the door knob, a note of worry just barely detectable. The only response he receives is the sound of broken glass being shifted and muttering. His fingers tighten around the knob and he opens the door quickly, his muscle tensing as he mentally prepares himself for anything and everything.

         The sight that greets him is largely a relief, still worrying, but a relief all the same. Speed is crouched on the floor, what appears to be two, perhaps three broken jam jars smashed at his feet, the pink and red contents splattering the floorboards and Speed’s trousers. Abe enters towards the end of Speed’s rant, catching the last of his swearing “-christ, damn it all.” Followed by a wordless growl that makes Abraham’s lips twitch upward despite his worry. “Are you alright?” Abe inquires from the door way, one hand resting against the doorframe while he hesitates on the threshold. “Just peachy.” Speed snaps back, voice low and laced with undercurrents of anger, the cause of which apparent as Abe enters the room and kneels across from Speed. “Yes, well, I can see that.” Abe quips lightly, picking out a few large shards of glass and tossing them into the empty flower sack Speed had been using. The glower he receives in return and the biting “Ha ha, very funny. If you aren’t careful Mr. Lincoln, you might find yourself sleepin’ on the floor tonight.” Speed drawls, voice tight beneath the blatant levity, tossing bits of glass into the sack without much care. Abe grins and then flinches when Speed flicks a large, cold glob of peach jam onto his cheek out of spite and then wipes his sticky fingers on Abe’s apron.

          Laughing, he reaches up and wipes the mess from his cheek with his forefinger before licking it clean, peach jam flavoring his tongue as he picks at the glass with agile fingers. Unbeknownst to Abraham, who is wholly engaged in his task of picking out glass shards, Speed’s eyes follow the motion of Abe’s tongue with a certain kind of raptness, his breath stuttering not from pain but from something else entirely. Speed has half a mind to put that tongue to a better use, but decides, rather reluctantly, that it can wait at least until this mess is cleaned up. When he does look up, Abe gives Speed a quick once over, his eyebrows knitting even further while his lips curl downwards into a frown. It’s then he catches sight of the blood, it having been camouflaged by the jam. Bright red and flowing freely, blood runs from a cut that spans the width of Speed’s palm, staining skin and the front of Speed’s shirt.

          Speed had hastily tied a kerchief around the cut when it had been made, but not tightly enough and blood had soaked through the once white linen. When Speed realizes Abe has noticed his injury, his swearing begins anew, phrases lewd enough to bring a flush to Abe’s face while he removes the sullied kerchief and gets a good look at the cut. Abraham’s fingers are gentle against Speed’s battered hand, judging the depth of the cut and whether or not it would require stitches. Speed’s hand jerks involuntarily and he sucks in a sharp hiss of a breath that leaves on a “Be careful, you great pillock!” as pain dances along the torn edges of his skin.

          Abe pays no mind to the admonishment, bringing the hand closer to his face to determine whether or not glass has entered the cut. Breathing a sigh of relief when he finds nothing, he gives Speed a playfully condescending look “Oh stop your incessant whinin’, it isn’t even that deep.” Speed swats his shoulder with his uninjured hand and all but whines, his lower lip jutting “But it _stings_.” To which Abe replied “Of course it does, you’ve gone and cut it open, now haven’t you?” as he stands from his crouch and scans the stocked shelves before him for a role of bandages and antiseptic, bloodied handkerchief still held loosely in his hand. “That’s it mister, you’re sleepin’ on the floor tonight.” Speed grumbles as he continues cleaning up glass with his good hand as Abe bustled about, an easy “Alright, good luck stayin’ warm in the night, all by your lonesome.” his response.

            Setting the bandages on a nearby crate, Abe leans down to wrap his arm around Speed’s waist without asking and eases him up, the warmth of his body a stolen pleasure that Abe delights in. “Careful now.” He says softly as he helps Speed onto the crate. Speed huffs at him, the sound irritable, but he complies. His worry is replaced with a slight irritation, not at Speed or because of Speed, but at himself for having taken so long to notice the blood and the smaller mans’ obvious pain. His first signs should have been the quickened breaths, his pupils dilated with pain. He stops mentally berating himself long enough to find a towel to put under Speed’s hand. Speed completely ignores the gentle warning and retaliates Abe’s earlier jab with “I’ll stay warm just fine, Mr. Lincoln, your job isn’t anything a good blanket can’t do.”

          Abe is grinning by then, trying to smother it but failing as he kneels in front of Speed, antiseptic in hand, a towel just in front of Abraham as he takes Speed’s slender hand his own, elegant fingers stained crimson. Speed’s fingers twitch when Abe douses his hand with the antiseptic, the burn of it causing the muscles in his hand to spasm. Abe’s thumb soothes over the skin of his wrist as he cleans the wound efficiently, no stranger to the soft bite of antiseptic. He makes a quiet, comforting sound as he ever so gently parts the edges of the wound with his fingertips, checking once more for glass before he unrolls the bandages and painstakingly and meticulously wraps Speed’s hand.

         The bandages are tight; to stop the bleeding, and Speed informs him of that by placing a foot against his shoulder and shoving, a quietly pained sound escaping him as he attempts to free his hand from Abe’s sturdy hold. “Tight, too tight.” Speed grunts, sharp little zings of pain making themselves known as Abe leans back into the press of his foot, never letting go of his hand. “Well that’s the point, now isn’t it?” Abe replies almost cheerfully, a quiet note of anxiety just detectable in the otherwise carefree words. He continues on quickly before Speed can reply, his lovely lips having already parted only to close again when Abe speaks. “Promise me you’ll be careful?” He asks, ripping the bandages with his teeth and then tucking the end of it under the folds of the wrappings.

         “Aren’t I always?” Speed answers cockily, but his expression is soft and his eyes give Abe the answer he needs. Abe’s response is a brilliant smile that warms Speed to his core, the insistent pain in his hand is less insistent as he basks in the warmth of Abe’s smile. Joshua’s hand looks so small in Abraham’s, his fingers caged ever so gently by Abe’s. Despite the levity Abe is treating the situation with; Joshua can see the tension in the line of his body and reaches out to smooth away the crease between Abe’s brows with his thumb. “That’s enough dallying, Mr. Lincoln, there’s work to be done.” He teases lightly, caressing the curve of Abe’s cheek bone with his fingertips.

         “Of course Mr. Speed, right away Mr. Speed.” Abe drawls back, his expression serious despite his mocking tone. Speed moves to withdraw his hand and Abraham’s fingers tighten unconsciously, a faint blush settling on his cheeks as he turns Speed’s hand over in his and presses a chaste kiss against the center of his bandaged palm. Speed’s finger curl slightly, not a sign of pain but pleasure, and he feathers his fingertips over the curve of Abe’s bottom lip, fingers lingering there. The increased rate of Speed’s breathing is audible and Abe chances a glance upwards to gage Joshua’s reaction. The stunning blue of Speed’s irises are very nearly eclipsed by the black of his pupils, his lips parted slightly as watches Abe through half-lidded eyes.

        Abraham’s breath hitches quietly, the sound almost indiscernible as he continues to kneel at Speed’s feet, loosely holding his injured hand. “I think we can put those lips a yours to a better use, now don’t you Abe?” The softly spoken words are punctuated by another brush of his thumb and Abraham swallows heavily. Abe flushes all the way to his ears, his face unbearably warm as Speed’s words sink in, heat curling in his lower belly. “I asked you a question Mr. Lincoln,” Speed murmurs softly, his voice slow and lazy “I do believe it requires an answer.” His thumb rests just against Abe’s lips, unmoving but undoubtedly there.

        Abe nods, the movement jerky, his lips parting under Speed’s finger only to close again as a shudder courses the length of his spine. Speed grins slyly and shifts in his seat on the crate, his trousers tighter than they had been previously. “I reckon we could, Joshua.” Abe agrees after a time, his tongue curling silkily around the syllables of his name as shifts hesitantly closer. It’s Speed’s turn to swallow, his breath catching at the downright sinful way Abe’s tongue caresses his name. The tent in his trousers is more noticeable as nimble fingers deftly undo his buttons. Not to be outdone, he purrs back “If you’d be much obliged, kindly get right to it Abe.” Abe’s lips curl upwards and he settles his free hand, the one that isn’t cupping Speed’s wounded hand with care, on Speed’s knee. Sliding his fingers upwards along the inside seam of his pants, Abe’s fingers alight on the top button of Speed’s pants.

          Speed’s breath leaves him on a shaky shudder and the muscles in his lower stomach clench, his eyes never leaving Abe’s wonderfully flushed face. When the last button is undone, Speed tangles his hand in Abe’s hair, neither pushing nor pulling, and drags his fingers over Abe’s scalp. Abe leans into the drag of fingers and shivers lightly as he gives Speed a nervous look from under his lashes, asking for permission before continuing. Speed responds by giving him a truly breathtaking look, blue eyes bright with need as he wets his bottom lip. Abe shudders and shifts, his knees digging into the wooden floorboards as he adjusts his own arousal.

         Speed gives the curls in his hand an encouraging tug and then moans wantonly when Abe’s fingers tug him from the confines of his trousers; his head tipping back as he bites his lips. Abraham’s fingers lace ever so carefully with Speed’s before he gives Speed’s length a careful stroke. Speed’s hips buck and he moans again, a breathy “Abe!” gasped into the silence of the store room. A sharp jolt of pleasure skitters down his spine and he repeats the gesture, the bite of nails against his scalp smothering the flare of apprehension that had placed itself in his mind momentarily. They were in public, after all, and the thrill of that has Abe on edge in the best of ways.

         Leaning in close, he brushes his lips gently, shyly, over the tip of Speed’s cock, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin. The taste is odd, not entirely unpleasant, but most certainly odd, and Abe licks his bottom lip slowly before continuing, hyper aware of Speed’s eyes on his skin. Speed groans, the sound a dangerous aphrodisiac, and gasps out a quiet encouragement as Abe envelopes the heads of him in his wonderfully heated mouth. “Oh, yes, oh God yes.” Speed moans; to Abe’s pleasure. His fingers tease the underside of Joshua’s erection, fingers ghosting over the line of a vein as he takes him deeper into his mouth. Abe’s pants are now just as tight as Speed’s had been and he groans, the sound reverberating against the length of Speed’s shaft in a way that has his back arching and a loud, long groan leaving his throat. “Christ, Abe, just like that.” Speed gasps out, voice sounding slightly strangled, his toes curling.

        Abe pulls his head back, saliva and pre-come coating his lips as he gives Speed a playfully reprimanding look. “Blasphemy, Speed, is a sin.” Abe murmurs huskily, his lips curling upward in a wicked grin. Speed laughs, the sound breathless, only for it to choke off into a ragged groan as Abe’s skilled tongue teases his cockhead. Speed’s hips grind forward and Abe very nearly gags, easing back enough to give himself breathing room, Abe drags his tongue over that delicate vein while giving the base of Speed’s erection a firm stroke. Speed’s hand plays and toys with Abe’s loose curls while Abe undoes him with his tongue, the man just as vocal about this as he is about everything else.

        Speed is close; he can feel it, liquid heat curling sharply in his stomach while his breaths grow more desperate and frenzied. He realizes then how terribly rude he’s being, leaving Abe to tend to himself, which he hadn't done. Tugging Abe’s head away by his hold on his hair, Speed slides smoothly form his perch on the crate and into Abe’s lap, the delicious friction pulling moans from both of their throats. Abe looks momentarily startled but quickly warms to the idea when Speed pulls him hastily from his trousers and grips him tightly. Speed’s legs bracket Abe’s waist and he takes the both of them in hand, his back arching at the slow drag of skin against skin. Abe’s gasp is so deliciously depraved and Speed repeats the action, his thumb teasing over the head of Abraham’s cock, smearing their combined pre-come.

         Abe’s free hand, now out of a job, braces against the floor as he leans back, his breaths coming in ragged pants as Speed’s hand drags them both steadily to completion. Abe’s head tips back ,the expanse of his smooth throat perfectly exposed as his eyes falls closed, his lips full and swollen. Speed leans forward, his heart hammering furiously, and catches Abe’s slick bottom lip between his teeth, nipping it sharply before soothing the sting with his tongue. Abe’s breath leaves him in a hard rush, Abe’s breath fluttering against Speed’s lips before he trails them downward, placing a sloppy kiss against Abe’s jawline, his adam’s apple and then finally the junction of his shoulder and throat. Unable to resist, Joshua bites down, teeth digging into the soft skin just beneath his lips as he grinds against Abraham.

         The sting of teeth and the hard strokes of Speed’s hand are the cause of his undoing and he comes hard, with a cry of “Joshua!” his body shaking and shuddering against Speed’s as the hand that had previously been keeping him up curls around Speed’s slender shoulders. Come slicking his hand, Speed bucks into the tight circle of his hand once more, the cry of his name, his first name, pushing him right over the edge as he joins Abe in his release, his fingers curling tightly in Abe’s hair. Trembling just as badly, if not more so, as Abe is, Speed presses a kiss to the blossoming bruise his teeth had left on Abe’s skin and buries his nose in the crook of his neck, his breaths hoarse as he comes back down from that spectacular high.

        Abe’s chest is heaving and he buries his nose in Speed’s hair, sweat clinging to his skin as he breathes in the scent of Speed’s hair. “Did you just sniff me?” Speed asks, sounding a little surprised, but largely amused. Abe buries his face deeper in Speed’s hair, pride welling as he realizes that he had caused Speed’s voice to be that husky and sated. “I might have.” Abe replies, not lifting his head from his comfortable new pillow. “Well alright then.” Is Speed’s pleased reply, his fingers idly toying with the sweat dampened hairs at the back of Abraham’s neck, the cut and the ruined jam completely forgotten as come and sweat dry on their skin while they hold one another tightly.


End file.
